


Loss

by CaptainSaku



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Drama, F/M, Funeral
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-15
Updated: 2015-12-15
Packaged: 2018-05-06 23:01:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5434067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainSaku/pseuds/CaptainSaku
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She's gone. One last sacrifice, the ultimate one. He's broken and hollow, but he will honor her memory, even if her funeral is the last place where he wants to be. One last goodbye, and his world comes crashing down around him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Loss

**Author's Note:**

> And here you have the "Lovers" version of the same meme responsible for "A Speech to Remember Her By." This one's a lot more painful, I think.
> 
> I tried to tweak it to keep it as neutral as possible as far as Shepard's concerned, save for her eye and hair color. Point is, this is not part of Luna Shepard's universe. I'm really hoping you have those tissues on hand.
> 
> Prompt: Send me a ‘go on without me’ and I’ll write a short drabble as my muse at your muse’s funeral

She was gone. _Gone_. And with her, so were gone his hopes and dreams for the future. For a shining, golden minute, they had talked about the possibility of building a family together, about retiring and living a peaceful, _normal_ life. They had both known perfectly well that they might not make it out alive, and even if they did, neither of them was ready to retire just yet. Still, a man could dream; a man could hope for the best.

Now, that hope had been crushed to stardust and scattered across the galaxy.

His light was gone from the universe; the stars no longer shone bright. Not for him, anyway. They would never shine as brightly as they had when she’d been by his side. Everything was veiled in gloom and darkness.

Empty. He was empty. His apartment was empty. The Normandy was empty. Empty was her cabin, empty was her seat, empty was the void she had left in his heart. He would never be whole again. Even the galaxy seemed empty, devoid of meaning.

The memorial dragged on. What was Hackett saying? Something about Shepard being a hero or a savior. It didn’t really matter. Or, rather, he didn’t really care about the carefully tailored words Hackett was reading from his notes.

This was the last place he wanted to be.

But he owed her that much. She had been the best damn thing that had ever happened to him. She had seen past all his flaws, all his shortcomings, past everything that he ever thought was wrong with him, past race and cultural differences. She had loved him for who he was, fully and completely, as he had loved her.

And now her fire had been snuffed, put out in one last sacrifice to save the galaxy. One woman who gave her everything, her time, her soundness of mind, her wellbeing and ultimately her life, so that everyone else could live.

She had always been selfless, Shepard. Always thinking of others before thinking of herself. She never came first, her needs never were before those of others. In the end, her selflessness and sense of duty were her undoing… and with her, so was gone his own life.

People were starting to move, to mill about the casket, to say their last goodbyes. Garrus stared, but didn’t see. He didn’t think, he didn’t feel. He was numb. The sun shone bright, in stark contrast with the funeral, with the way he himself felt. It should have been raining heavily.

He barely took notice of the pats on his back, the hands squeezing his arms or shoulders as people walked by and tried to comfort him, to offer their support.

It was no secret that they’d been dating. Hell, even Primarch Victus knew by the end of it all. So it was that he was on the receiving end of many a pitying look, many a sideways glance and a shake of head.

He suddenly became aware of every pair of eyes pinned on him, waiting, collective breaths held. They had all said their goodbyes, and now, he realized, it was his turn.

He couldn’t do this. He didn’t want to. He wasn’t ready to say goodbye. But oh, he would be damned if he didn’t _try_.

Mandibles pressed tight against his face, he forced himself to take a step forward, then another. Soon, he was looking down at the closed casket, partially covered by the Alliance flag. Some deep, dark corner of his mind thought it appropriate to point out that he wasn’t even sure there was a body left to bury.

And that’s when it hit him, when it really, finally, dawned on him.

She was _gone_. She wouldn’t be coming back. He would never see her smile again, never hear her laugh again, never look into those green eyes of hers again. He would never be able to make fun of her again, never be on the receiving end of one of her quips or jabs. He would never feel her weight on his lap again, never feel her forehead against his… never kiss her, shower with her, _love_ her again.

She was gone. Really, completely, gone. And this time, she wouldn’t be coming back. This time, it was permanent.

His legs gave out from under him then, and he fell to his knees at the casket’s side, a loud keening note all that could be heard over the mournful silence that enveloped the ceremony. Slowly, he lowered his forehead to the polished wood of the casket and he let himself cry, the people around him forgotten. He didn’t care. They didn’t matter. All that mattered was that Shepard was gone and he would never be with her again. Not in this life, at least. _I’ll meet you at the bar._

Long minutes passed before he could finally calm himself. He could hear cries, sobs and whines behind him. He could hear concerned muttering, and he could almost feel some of the disapproving looks he was probably being given. Still, he didn’t move.

It was a while before he felt a hand on his shoulder, firm and steady, grounding. Looking up, he found his father looking down at him. _Dad_ , not former Officer Vakarian.

“Come on, son.”

Nodding slowly, like a child, Garrus let his dad help him to his feet, steer him away from the coffin.

A whistle rang in his ears. A group of Alliance soldiers appeared, all in their dress blues. Rigid and in formation, just as they should. The soldiers picked up the flag and folded it neatly into a triangle.

Garrus watched as Hackett took the piece of folded fabric from them. A few seconds went by before it registered that it was _him_ who the Admiral was walking towards. Soon they were face to face, and Hackett was presenting him not only with the flag, but with a small wooden box. Hands shaking, Garrus opened it.

Her dog tags.

Shepard was gone, never to return again, and all he had to remember her by were his memories, her dog tags, and a damned Alliance flag.

But he would honor her last order, her final unprofessional and selfish act to save his life. He would live on, and so would she live on in him.


End file.
